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Updated: May 18, 2025
"You are not our Emperor!" replied the lieutenant, repeating his Commandant's words; "you are a robber, my uncle, and a usurper." Pugatchéf again gave the handkerchief signal, and good Iwán Ignatiitch swung beside his old chief. It was my turn. Boldly I looked on Pugatchéf and made ready to echo the answer of my outspoken comrades.
Pugatchéf had reassembled his troops, and was still to be found before Orenburg. At the approach of our forces the disaffected villages returned to their allegiance. Soon Prince Galítsyn won a complete victory over Pugatchéf, who had ventured near Fort Talitcheff; the victor relieved Orenburg, and appeared to have given the finishing stroke to the rebellion.
But Pugatchéf had not been taken; he reappeared very soon in the mining country of the Ural, on the Siberian frontier. He reassembled new bands, and again began his robberies. We soon learnt the destruction of Siberian forts, then the fall of Khasan, and the audacious march of the usurper on Moscow. Zourine received orders to cross the River Volga. I shall not stay to relate the events of the war.
Chvabrine came to meet the usurper; he was dressed as a Cossack, and had allowed his beard to grow. The traitor helped Pugatchéf to get out of the carriage, expressing by obsequious words his zeal and joy. Seeing me he became uneasy, but soon recovered himself. "You are one of us," said he; "it should have been long ago." I turned away my head without answering him.
Thus I could easily exculpate myself, for not only had we not been forbidden to make sorties against the enemy, but were encouraged in so doing. Still my friendly understanding with Pugatchéf seemed to be proved by a crowd of witnesses, and must appear at least suspicious. All the way I pondered the questions I should be asked, and mentally resolved upon my answers.
Pugatchef was gnawing the bone of a horse for food when his false friends ran up to him, saying, "Come, you have long enough been emperor." Perceiving that treachery was intended, he drew his pistol and fired at his foes, shattering the arm of the foremost. The others seized and bound him and conveyed him to Goroduk in the Ural, the locality of Antizof's tribe.
"Tzar," said he, furiously, "I am guilty, I have lied to you; but Grineff also deceives you. This young girl is not the pope's niece; she is the daughter of Iván Mironoff, who was executed when the fort was taken." Pugatchéf turned his flashing eyes on me. "What does all this mean?" cried he, with indignant surprise. But I made answer boldly "Chvabrine has told you the truth."
"The young lady is alive," replied Polashka; "she is hidden at Akoulina Pamphilovna's." "In the pope's house!" I exclaimed, affrighted. "Good God! Pugatchéf is there!" I rushed out of the room, in two jumps I was in the street and running wildly towards the pope's house. From within there resounded songs, shouts, and bursts of laughter; Pugatchéf was at the table with his companions.
Marya Ivánofna threw a quick look at him, and divined that the murderer of her parents was before her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, and fell unconscious. I was rushing to help her, when my old acquaintance, Polashka, came very boldly into the room, and took charge of her mistress. Pugatchéf withdrew, and we all three returned to the parlour.
Then contempt overpowered in me all feelings of hatred and revenge. I looked with disgust upon a gentleman at the feet of a Cossack deserter. Pugatchéf allowed himself to be moved. "I pardon you this time," he said, to Chvabrine; "but next offence I will remember this one." Then, addressing Marya, he said to her, gently, "Come out, pretty one; I give you your liberty. I am the Tzar."
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